Once
by Zayrastriel
Summary: Dave watches Kurt and Blaine, and reflects.  Season 3, Kurt/Blaine slash, potential one-sided Kurt/Dave if you squint and turn your head in interesting ways.


**A/N**: Just a short one-shot produce during procrastination from a) my longer fic and b) exam study that I'm trying to forget about.

This is set some indiscriminate time in Season 3.

Comments/etc. are appreciated greatly (= Enjoy!

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><p>Once upon a time, Dave wouldn't have been standing here. He'd never been the observer, the onlooking witness.<p>

But now, all Dave _can _do is look on, because he's not sure there's anything else he wants to do.

So he watches Azimio push Hummel, watches those long slender hands fly up to stop Hummel from falling face-first into the lockers. He hears that high-pitched yelp that belongs to a girl, not to a seventeen year old guy.

Once upon a time, that would have been the end of it. Dave would have called out something, anything, and he and Azimio would have high-fived as Hummel glared up at them, hate and fear meshed together in those ridiculously large eyes of his.

"What do you think you're doing?"

But this isn't once upon a time. It's now.

And it's Anderson, that preppy private school kid who cuts in, his arm wrapping around Hummel's – _Kurt's_ – shoulder protectively, normally-placid hazel eyes blazing with a fire that even Dave has to resist the urge to cringe from.

Azimio _does _flinch slightly. He might be taller, might be bigger than this guy who looks so ridiculously out-of-place with his too-formal clothing and his gelled-back hair (like Kurt, but shorter and less bitchy and generally less fa- _gay_). Azimio could win in a fight. Hell, _anyone _could win in a fight against this hobbit.

But clearly no one's told Anderson that.

So Dave's former best friend scowls, mutters something that would have been threatening if it had been audible, and almost _runs _off.

The fire in Anderson's eyes dims slightly (but doesn't vanish, because anyone could sense the outraged glares directed at the hand that's dropped to loop around Kurt's waist), and turns Kurt around to face him. He whispers something, and Kurt whispers back, a blend of stunned relief, amazement and something else Dave can't, _won't _name) brightening his eyes even more than the fear used to.

Dave looks away when Anderson leans forward, but the whispers that rustle through the corridor are enough to stir that uncomfortable feeling that, once again, Dave refuses to name; the twist he'd gotten in his stomach when he first met Anderson, the rolling, churning feeling when he saw them the night of that stupid Glee club concert.

But there aren't any comments (at least not said loudly enough to be heard by anyone other than the speaker). No violently vocal protests. Dave supposes it's because of the Prom night, when everyone realised that maybe, just maybe, they might have gone a little bit too far. Once upon a time, if two fa- _gay _people made out in the corridor…(unless it was Lopez and Brittany doing it, because no one in their right minds would try to stop that.)

But now, nothing.

Dave doesn't understand, as he turns around to see them walking together in his direction, fingers interlinked and smiles on their faces, Kurt's voice as loud as ever as Anderson nods in agreement to whatever's being said about fashion or music or whatever it is that gay kids talk about.

_I'm gay_.

He bats away the thought, averting his gaze as the two of them walk past him.

"You're ridiculous," Kurt sighs, and Dave can just tell that he's rolling his eyes.

Preppy private school kid laughs, and the warmth of the sound – the _happiness _– makes Dave's fist clench. "But you love me anyway."

There's a certainty in those words, and Dave swallows.

Kurt sighs again, heavily, before letting out a short laugh that Dave has _never _heard before. Normally when Kurt laughs around Dave, it's sarcastic or mocking, or an attempt to cover up the fear that his eyes can't hide.

This sound is light and musical, as is Kurt's voice when he speaks again. "Gaga help me, it's _why _I love you…" He adds something more, about not knowing why he does, but Dave doesn't pay attention.

Because now Dave _does_ understand, suddenly; why these two protect each other so much, why they still manage to smile and laugh despite the hatred that they walk through every single day. And he understands why, despite the hatred, no one does anything more than the ritual locker-shove or slushie, because Dave feels the same.

Dave's popular enough. He's doing well at school. He's got friends (except Azimio, who's never forgiven him for that Bully Whips incident.) No one would _ever _dare slushie him, or push him into the lockers or throw him into the dumpster.

But right now, he thinks he could sacrifice all of that if it meant he could have what Kurt and Ander – _Blaine_ – have.


End file.
